This may (or may not) surprise you to learn but I don’t have a whole lot of real live friends who live near me. There are a few women I work with that are friends in a sense, but they aren’t people I hang out with outside of work. I have the girls from class, and one of them is an employee in another department so I think she and I will stay in contact past the semester, but no guarantees. Again, not really “hanging out” type friends. Most of my time gets spent with family when it gets spent with anyone.
But I do have F. I’ve known her for years and she’s currently the only other person I know who lives with similar mental illnesses. Her flavors are a little different and she’s on a completely different med regime, but there’s enough similarity to empathize. Sounds pretty awesome, yeah?
Not so much.
I haven’t said anything about it because, well, I guess because I figured there was nothing to say. We don’t hang out all that much because she lives about an hour from me, also works full time, and has kids. But I’ve been noticing a pattern that I guess I just don’t like.
She’s most likely to get in touch when she needs help and doesn’t want to be embarrassed in front of her other friends, when something goes wrong with her mental health, when she’s gotten shit on by the latest love interest (who’s name I never do get to know), and in general when I’m the last possible option.
I got a text yesterday around lunch saying that she’ll be in town seeing a musical on Saturday and really wanted to meet for dinner. I’ll be out of town doing a bus trip with Mom that day so then she wanted to know about last night. Nope, already had dinner plans. She wouldn’t say what was so urgent only that she just had to talk to me because I’m the only one who will understand. We made plans for tomorrow, plans that I’ve just cancelled.
I’ve got that big presentation to give in May and there’s no time to handle it at work now. Josh is at school tomorrow night and Mom is getting home late which means prime work time for me. I know if I met her, not until 6pm of course, that I’d never get home in time to take my meds and unwind so I could sleep. All I need right now is for my sleep schedule to get fucked up.
So part of me feels bad about this, but mostly not. She was all anxious to meet yesterday and now today it’s “no worries.” You’re right, totally not worrying about this any more.